Motivation.
Mo·ti·va·tion.
[ˌmōdəˈvāSH(ə)n]
Noun.
The general desire or willingness of someone to do something.
Wrong.
Motivation.
Noun.
The small, innocuous capsule I take every morning to make my brain work "right."
Right.
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I can feel my heart beating in my fingertips.
They vibrate with it.
My breath tickles in and out of my nose, my throat, my lungs.
My chest aches with it.
My vision tunnels, there's nothing else.
I have to, I need to, I finally want to.
Finally. Hurry! Hurry up and do it before the need slips away!
Sliding back into darkness and apathy.
Everything is sharp. A razor's edge of clarity layered thinly over every surface,
Catching and cutting right to the heart of my vision.
There's nothing else.
My hands itch to do something, anything, before I run out of time.
There's a tick; a twitch, more than one; too many, too much:
I blink too much, sniff too much,
Breath too hard - not hard enough!
Picking, always picking. I can't stop. Why can't I stop!?
Side effects.
Mind over matter,
I can control it.
It's all about self-awareness.
They say
Don't forget to eat,
Forget to feel,
Interact,
Be.
They say
Don't worry, it's always like this at first,
You just have to learn to manage it.
Don't worry.
They say.
.
.
.
Worry? Who's worried? I'm not, I can't feel anything,
Not on the inside. I can feel everything outside. Too much I can feel on the outside.
"There're other options," they say.
"No. It's fine," I say.
"Everything's fine," I say. Anything's worth it.
I'd give anything to finally be able to think.
I'd give up control of my body to finally gain control of my mind.
YOU ARE READING
Attention Deficit Disorder
RandomJust a random long-winded internal monologue that I happened to write down as it happened. Because, yes, I do have ADD, and it's really hard to explain it to someone who doesn't, so this is my best-and only-effort.
